


it feels so much lighter now i met you (honey you are the sea upon which i float)

by primrue (pinklemonadelesbian)



Series: i fell in love at the seaside [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Annie-Centric, F/F, Female-Centric, Femslash Focused, Healing, Mental Illness, Nightmares, Not Epilogue Compliant, Open Relationships, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, i dont think it's all very explicit but uh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinklemonadelesbian/pseuds/primrue
Summary: Katniss’ eyes are as green as the sea. They keep Annie from drowning on the bad days. On the good days, they make her feel as if she could walk on water.





	it feels so much lighter now i met you (honey you are the sea upon which i float)

**Author's Note:**

> so uh.... another try at second pov w/ one of my absolute fav femslash ships atm (it's right up there with johanna/annie and katniss/madge). hope u enjoy lol

You are floating in the sea. The waves are warm and gentle, and they envelop you the way Finnick’s arms used to. The water is clear, clearer than you’ve ever seen it before, and when you look down you can see all the way to the bottom of the ocean—something glints golden in the warm sunlight. You dive, down, down, down into the depths of the sea. Your feet touch the bottom and the sand comes up in clouds, pearly white. You walk toward the glinting gold. It’s a mockingjay pin. You pick it up, turning it in your hand. It pricks your finger. Blood seeps from the tiny wound, turning the water around you red and thick as blood.  
You wake with a start, drenched in sweat, when the baby cries.

 

In the morning you write to Peeta. Peeta is a good friend, now. He sends you baked goods and you send him news. Someday you are going to knit him a sweater. Now, you write: _I don’t know what to do. Since the baby came, the nightmares have gotten stronger. Often I do not know who I am or where I am. I am afraid. I don’t want to give him up._ _He is so precious to me._

  
You wait for weeks. You feel a buzzing in your bones, as if there are a thousand tracker-jackers rattling around in them. You can’t sit still; you pace up and down the hallways of your house, fingernails biting into your palms.

  
In the end, it is Katniss who writes back. She tells you of Peeta’s garden, of her books, of rebuilding the bakery. Of rebuilding Twelve, step by little step. _Haymitch is mostly sober now,_ she tells yor. _He is over here more often than not._

Katniss tells you a thousand good things, but the best is this: _I am coming up to Four to be with you. I think you could use some company, and Peeta agrees._

 

Katniss arrives on a bright summer day. The salty sea breeze is blowing her hair into her face, and you haven’t seen anything so welcome since you returned to Finnick.  
Katniss is grinning in a way you have never seen her grin before. It’s bright and purely happy. There are fewer shadows behind her eyes. It’s a nice change.

 

It only takes Katniss four nights to climb into your bed with you. You are tangled up in a nightmare, unsure if you are asleep or awake, when Katniss slips in. She is warm and soft and you immediately latch on to her. Katniss starts humming soothingly; it’s a little thing, barely a song, more of a gentle buzz. Your eyes begin to slip shut a minute into it, and your limbs, stiff with fear, relax in Katniss’ arms.

Katniss always sleeps with you after that.

 

Katniss is leaning over Adan, tickling him with her braid, when you come out of the kitchen, worn out and covered in flour. Peeta’s been sending you recipes and you’re trying, but, well. You’re no baker. You sneeze and they both look up, grinning. Warmth wells up in you like the ocean tide, and you come forward to wrap both of them in your arms until Adan starts to wriggle. Katniss’ breath puffs warmly on your cheek, and you shudder.

You don’t know why.

 

Soon you develop a routine. It goes like this: Wake up in Katniss’ arms. Pretend to be asleep until she wakes so you can take in her warmth. Tell yourself it’s because you just don’t want to wake her. It isn’t. Make breakfast. Feed Katniss, then the baby. Fail to convince Adan to drink the warm goat’s milk. Watch with mixed pride, joy, and jealousy as Katniss doesn’t. On a good day, go down to the seaside and watch Katniss run in and out of the waves, shouting and laughing like a child. Watch the sun glint off of her bronze skin and try not to wonder why it makes your stomach feel tight. On the bad days, you hide in your room, drowning, until Katniss lays the baby down to sleep and comes into your room and sits with you, waiting. She doesn’t touch you until you are ready for it, and you are so incredibly grateful for that. And when you are ready she holds you until the emptiness is gone and you can finally settle and sleep.

 

Four months, give or take a few, into Katniss’ stay, and you have another nightmare. You haven’t had one since she first crawled into your bed, and this one shocks you awake screaming. Katniss is awake too, fuzzy and warm, and she draws you into her arms after making sure you’re ok. You rest your head against her heartbeat and listen to it and her low hum until the ache ebbs from your bones and you drift off to sleep.  
The next morning you’re shaky and disoriented, unsure of what’s real and what isn’t, unsure even of your name. Katniss knows, of course she does. She takes your hand carefully and leads you to the kitchen table. She sits down beside you, always keeping in your line of sight. She smiles gently at you before speaking softly. “Do you want to do real or not real?” She asks. Her eyes are a warm sea green, flecks of blue and grey dancing in them. You keep your gaze fixed on them as you nod, as if they are the only thing keeping you from drowning. They are.

“My name is Annie Cresta,” you say slowly, almost embarrassed, but she keeps smiling at you. “Real,” she says clearly, distinctly. “We live in district four.”

“Real.”

“I’m drowning.”

She never looks at you like you’re weird. “Not real.”

“My baby’s name is Adan.”

“Real.”

“I’m terrible at baking,” you say, almost smiling. Katniss chokes on her laugh, struggling to get it under control, her ocean eyes sparkling. You’re really smiling now, quietly but truly. “Real,” she sputters, wheezing. Her laughter stumbles to a stop when she looks up and sees your grin. She gets a quiet, tender look in her eyes and your breath catches in your throat. Oh, you think. Oh. She moves closer, reaching out a hand to brush your hair out of your face, when the baby starts wailing in the other room. You both freeze. Your heart beats so loud you know she must hear it.

She smiles apologetically at you before standing and leading you into the nursery. First, she sits you down in your armchair, worn and green, then she scoops up Adan and lays him in your arm. She hovers over you, as if unsure she is welcome. You shift the baby around until you have an arm free and reach out to draw her in. She’s always welcome here, with you. This is home for her, too.

 

Half a year or so into her stay, you find Katniss haphazardly packing. You swallow, something thick and heavy caught in your throat. “Where are you going?” You ask shakily. You thought she was happy here, but maybe not. She turns to smile absentmindedly at you. “We,” she corrects. “We?” You ask, puzzled. “Yes, I thought we could visit Twelve for a couple of weeks. Peeta could help you bake, and I could show you the woods. We could show off the baby.” Annie blinks. Oh. You like that. A lot more than you thought you would. “Ok. Yeah,” you say. “That sounds...nice.” More than nice. She seems to read the echo of your thoughts on your face, because she grins at you.

 

You watch the hills and houses slip past you as the train speeds on. It’s so different from when you first rode the train, on your way to the Games. For one, everything is much less decorated now. And for another, both Katniss and Adan are with you. Adan, in your arms, Katniss, a warm, sleepy presence by your side. All was well for now. You let your eyes drift shut.

 

You’re trailing down the path, Adan strapped to your chest, when Katniss starts smiling her secretive smile. “What are you doing?” You ask tiredly, affectionately. She keeps smiling slyly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she singsongs. “Oh really?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “And why are you smiling like that?” You ask, fighting your own smile. Katniss grins sharply and you feel a thrill run down your spine. “He doesn’t know we’re coming,” she says finally, and you do have to grin at that. You’re glad she feels well enough to play something like this on him. She’ll never tell you, but she has her bad days, too, and it was worse for her on the train.

You breathe out a little laugh at the way she almost-but-not-quite skips to the door and raps her knuckles on it. There's silence for several minutes before the soft, uneven thuds of Peeta’s footsteps sound. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” He calls. Katniss steps back, still grinning, and takes your hand in hers. Warmth curls in your gut, and you squeeze her hand gently.

The door opens, and Peeta is standing in the doorway, panting and covered in flour. His smile, brighter than the sun, spreads across his face when he sees the three of you. “Katniss! Annie!” He cries excitedly. He strides forward and catches Katniss in his arms and spinning her around and around. She’s giggling and he’s kissing every spot on her face he can reach and it should hurt more, but it doesn’t. Especially not when he sets her down and leans down to kiss your cheek, smiling warmly. “Hello Annie, he whispers. “Hey,” you whisper back, grinning at Katniss over his shoulder. She comes around him and pulls you close to your side, leaning down to give the top of Adan’s curly head a kiss, and you know that no matter where you are, you’ll be home if she’s there.

 

In Twelve you do everything Katniss promised and more. You finally manage to bake a halfway decent loaf of bread with Peeta’s help. You watch on with pride as Katniss scarfs down the bread like she hasn’t eaten in days. Peeta laughs quietly behind you.  
“Oh my god Annie,” she says, “This is so good.” You grin, pleased. “Thanks,” you say softly. You almost miss Peeta giving you a funny look, you’re so focused on her.

The next morning Katniss takes you out into the woods and you almost shoot a turkey. You come home with two rabbits instead, but you feel proud of yourself, and Katniss can’t stop smiling.

You come back to Peeta blowing raspberries on Adan’s stomach and make him giggle. You feel so warm and bubbly you could burst. You never want to leave.

 

Unfortunately, you do leave, but it’s with the promise of another visit, and the possibility of Peeta coming to Four someday. You feel lighter when you breathe in the sea air.

Peace last three days. On the third night home, Katniss wakes up screaming. You shift closer to her. This isn’t the first time this has happened. “Katniss,” you say firmly but gently. She freezes. “Annie,” she croaks. “I’m here,” you say softly. Her breath shakes out of her in a great sight. “Annie,” she murmurs again. You touch her shoulder gently, testing the waters. “Katniss,” you answer. She rolls over and embraces you tightly. She’s still shaking down to the bones. She’s breathing heavily. “I dreamed they took you and Adan,” she whispers. Your heart constricts with pain for her. You’ve had far too many dreams of that like. “I’m right here,” you say softly. “And Adan is in the conjoining room. Do you want to go see him?” Katniss nods against you. “Yes please,” she whispers. Her breath ghosts against your neck, but for once you’re not paying attention.  
You get out of bed, pulling her with you, and lead her through the doorway that joins your room with Adan’s. You lift him out of his cradle and lay him in her arms. She kneels down slowly, tears slipping down her face as she stares down at the sleeping baby.

“He’s the most beautiful baby in the world, she says quietly, several moments later. “Real,” you whisper back. She laughs tremulously, just as you were hoping she would.

 

Several days later you’re sitting in your favorite worn and green armchair, having moved it out into the sun for today, finally knitting Peeta’s sweater. Maybe, just maybe you’ll be done by winter. Katniss comes strolling over, baby on her hip. “What are you doing?” She asks. You smile. “Finally knitting that sweater for Peeta,” you tell her. She’s silent for a bit, a magnificent smile stretching across her face. “You’re wonderful, did you know that?” She breathes. You look up at her just in time for her to lean down and kiss you, sweet and tender, right on the lips. You jerk back, startled. “But,” you gasp. “Peeta?” She asks. You nod dumbly. “Oh, Annie,” she says softly. “He already knows.” You gasp again before standing and taking the baby from her and setting him gently on the chair, making sure he’s comfortable before you turn to face her. “Kiss me again,” you say fiercely.

And she does. Again and again and again.


End file.
